


Karupin: The Beginning

by memymo



Series: The Echizens [2]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Cuteness overload, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 07:01:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1419086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memymo/pseuds/memymo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one knows where Karupin came from</p>
            </blockquote>





	Karupin: The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to kittykittyhunter on tumblr for the inspiration

No one knows where Karupin came from.

He was just there one day when Rinko came back from work, purring softly next to her son, who had, in the absent of his father (later, it was discovered that Nanjiroh was engrossed in his new collection in the ‘secret’ room), made himself a blanket and pillow fort, drools all over the white paper filled with giant tennis balls and fluffy little kitten.

Even Ryoma did not remember where Karupin came from. But he refused to be part from him, clutching the ball of fur as tight as he could with his tiny fingers, the golden eyes brimmed with water.

Sometimes, Rinko regretted letting Nanjiroh near their son and taught him how to turn on the water work.

So Karupin became a permanent fixture in their house, much to Nanjiroh’s disgust and protest. Rinko felt a thrill of victory every time her husband discovered one of his dirty magazines had been mauled by Karupin.

(And if she gives Karupin extra treat or another chocolate bar for Ryoma afterwards, it was only because they were such good boys)

Sometimes, she felt jealous of Karupin too.

Afternoons with Rinko and Ryoma lounging by the pool now turned into afternoons where Ryoma and Karupin went on another adventure and trekked dirt into the house after the dawn had set in, her son face glowed with delighted and his pockets filled with “treasures” he collected. Sunday mornings no longer found her son on her lap, eagerly waiting for another tales of Pooh, but Karupin on his lap, listening attentively as the boy weaved a tale of the mighty prince defeating the menacing dragon (she has a suspicion that Nanjiroh was the source of inspiration for the dragon, but she never tell anyone, and only smiled when Ryoma started to create another tale).

There was a part of Ryoma that was lost to Karupin, and Rinko never had any hope of getting it back.

But thing got better, sharing Ryoma with Karupin, because Karupin put a spark in his eyes that neither she nor Nanjiroh could. In Karupin, he found a kindred spirit, someone who would curled up next to him in the warm rays of afternoon, who would climbed up every trees besides him and pee all over Nanjiroh’s magazines.

Besides, Ryoma would always be her, for his treasures always found its way onto her desk or in her purse, dried flowers and sand-filled shells, attached with childish notes that never made any sense in the slightest. She would just smile, and ruffled his hair, watching him hide his reddened face behind Karupin’s white fur as he meowed pathetically for yet another meal.

After all, sharing Ryoma with Karupin was a much easier job than sharing him with Nanjiroh.


End file.
